Ibn my love I remember making love to you sweetly in the cave the you lived in. I loved how the flirting flames that our love made our shadows on. I remember you laying me on the rug and burying your face into my flower until in blossomed. You took hold of my blossom and started to kiss it. I wanted to be with you for ever but you had fight. My love hold me and never let go of your desert rose. This love ritual we did after studying Al-Quran. It was something of those words of Allah that great passionate power, and I loved you for that. Deeply religious and loving, gentle to me. But after morning prayer you leave to fight only to return to my tearful relief.
"Habibi I love you." You kiss me sweetly.
But it's when you out fighting for so long that I wish to join you. To comfort you and show the world still had beauty, both asethetical and sensual. Ibn I love you sweetly. I believe we meet in paradise and we're lovers. Making love my loving imam. When you come back I will be writing love poems to you. For there is not god but Allah.
YOU ARE READING
Memories
Non-FictionFacebook tales of my very intimate and very distant past lives that I have had. As I made love to the same person so many times in different rebirths I found the I was in love with him again I knew it was him when I saw him on a penpal say these are...
